


Saw You In a Dream

by IncandescentAntelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Come play, Consensual Somnophilia, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Grand Prix Final Banquet, M/M, Post-Banquet, Post-Canon, Rimming, Victor's return, lovey dovey baby boys who love each other and making each other feeling good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: After the Grand Prix Final, gold medallist Katsuki Yuuri and his fiance and silver medallist Viktor Nikiforov celebrate in very different ways. Or: Viktor lets Yuuri eat him out while he sleeps.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 18
Kudos: 237





	Saw You In a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is full of lots of fluffy feelings, for how horny the concept is. Big big big thank you to [Riki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riki) for their indescribable help in putting this together, to [Sav](https://archiveofourown.org/users/savsglasses) for enthusiastic cheerleading, and to my beta readers, [Tess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said) and [Ace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofjapan)!

Yuuri thought he would never see the day that he skated on the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov. He had lucked into that first Grand Prix Series, tripping into place at just the right moment. His success was circumstantial at the very best. 

Yuuri never imagined a life that involved Viktor stepping off his throne and into Yuuri’s world to coach him.  _ The  _ Viktor Nikiforov. Especially given the posters on his walls when the man himself arrived in Hasetsu, barely in time to convince him to keep skating. 

Yuuri never thought he would do most of what happened that first year. But Viktor defied every expectation. He always did. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered in his ear, a half-empty glass of champagne in his hand. “I’m tired. Wanna go.” His accent was thick and garbled, the way it was when he was truly exhausted. Yuuri was still buzzing and excited, running high on endorphins and the gold medal he had claimed as his own after a hard-fought season. 

“Alright, we can go.” Yuuri answered, kissing his fiance between his brows. “Let’s say goodnight to our friends and we’ll head up,  _ da? _ ” 

Viktor smiled adorably, his lips half-cocked and pink. “I like when you use Russian.”

“I know you do, love.” Yuuri teased, holding Viktor’s hand and bidding a goodnight to the group of sponsors who had been attempting to foster something for the next season. The dance floor was still packed; a long playlist of hip hop and pop had been playing all night. The usual culprits were behind the turntables, JJ barking into the microphone while Isabella watched on. 

Phichit and Christophe were still dancing, laughing and throwing each other around on the dance floor. Both would have a hell of a hangover, but it was lovely to see them enjoying themselves after their spirited attempt to keep their relationship a secret. They had spent the entire season acting like bitter rivals, but it only encouraged fan speculation on social media. 

#ChuChuMetti trended twice in three months. Quite an accomplishment, Phichit had remarked over text. 

Yuri was slumped over the table beside Otabek, who was rubbing his back. 

“Did he trick you into giving him drinks?” Viktor joked, but Otabek shook his head. 

“No, he’s sober. Just very sleepy,” Otabek answered with a stoic smile. Clearly he hadn’t been worn down by Yuri’s temper. Yuri didn’t have the energy to bite back, simply groaning something in Russian that Yuuri didn’t catch. 

Yakov and Lillia had already disappeared, their relationship seemingly on the mend as of late. Yuuri had a handful of thoughts as to where they had both gone, coincidentally at the same time. Ji and Leo were talking quietly in the corner, and Yuuri knew better than to interrupt them. They were both smiling softly; Ji’s freckled cheeks were flushed pinker than usual. Mila and Sara had escaped into the night as well, surely to earn a handful of noise complaints, as they always did. Emil and Mickey were bickering about  _ something _ that they had the good sense not to interrupt. Seung Gil was nowhere to be found and had more than likely returned to his room hours ago. Minami, too, had clearly been tired out, yawning as they said their goodbyes for the night. 

Yuuri felt a warm burst of pride in his chest as they left the ballroom together, Viktor’s arm wrapped firmly around his waist. It never grew old, being seen leaving with the former Hottest Bachelor in Winter Sports as dubbed by Sports Illustrated.

“Can we get something from the vending machine?” Viktor asked as they walked through the empty hotel lobby. 

“Already giving up on your competition diet, Vitya?” Yuuri teased, letting Viktor lead him to the bank of snack machines. “You know we can order room service.”

“Not gonna last that long,” Viktor replied with a yawn, picking something sugary and sweet. “Want something?”

“Not if I’m going to win another gold at World’s.” 

Viktor laughed. “Right, I have to take back my crown. Someone stole it while I was away.”

Yuuri smiled and pulled Viktor closer into his arms. “You were right there the whole time. If anything, you gave me your crown.”

“I’m moping, no teasing.” Viktor attempted a false air of offense, failing as a laugh slipped through the cracks. “I’ll take my gold back if it’s the last thing I do, Katsuki.”

A bright smile broke across Yuuri’s face. “You’ll have to take it from around my neck yourself, Nikiforov.” The ride up to their floor was quiet. Viktor tucked himself into Yuuri’s shoulder and finished his consolation treat, his suit coat wrinkling. 

There were muted sounds coming through the walls as they made their way to their room: TVs playing recaps, people talking quietly. Yuuri was filled with a certain kind of comfort in the dull sounds, but felt himself still buzzing with adrenaline. 

The door lock chirped and they stepped into their small room; it was barely a single minute before all of Viktor’s Armani three-piece was laying in heaps on the floor, his socks flung across the room. He was barely able to bend over to peel his sock garters off. Yuuri had to help him through that, and he was already half asleep by the time Yuuri had changed into his pajamas and tucked himself into bed beside Viktor. Thankfully they had reserved a room with one bed instead of two this year. 

They were both far too tired for showers, and Yuuri grimaced at the thought of what mess was waiting for them in the morning. But for the time being, letting Viktor cuddle in, wrapping around him and holding him close, sweaty limbs and all, was more than enough. 

“Goodnight, love,” Viktor whispered, and Yuuri returned his words, kissing the nape of his neck. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Yuuri,” Viktor mirrored. “I’ve never been prouder to be your coach.”

Viktor was drifting off not long after, his breaths even and slow against Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri, though, could barely manage to keep his eyes closed. His body was still wound tight as a spring, begging to be released, begging for something, to move, to unwind. 

Even his lower body defied him, an awfully-timed erection swelling between his legs. 

Viktor chuckled softly as Yuuri’s erection prodded him in the ass. “Yuuuuuuuri,” Viktor laughed, twisting in his arms and snuggling in close. Yuuri flushed, now hard against Viktor’s hip. His fiance’s nakedness definitely didn’t help matters. “Still awake, love?”

“I… I guess I’m still a little. Keyed up.” Yuuri explained with a tight laugh. “Can’t sleep.”

“I envy you,  _ lyubov moya, _ ” Viktor teased, catching Yuuri’s lips with his own. “But that stamina of yours has some downfalls.” Yuuri laughed quietly, barely more than a short, musical breath. 

"Can I?” Yuuri asked, rolling his hips against Viktor’s. “Can we?"

Viktor smiled, soft and wonderful. "Yuuri. I love you, but I'm so tired I could die in bed tonight."

"Oh, okay,” Yuuri hummed, disappointed, certainly, but the need was still coursing through him, blood pooling in his core. “Do you mind if I… um. In the shower?"

"I didn't say we can't,” Viktor replied with a tired smile, reaching for the velvet sleep mask on the bedside table. Even in the dark, Yuuri could see the gleam in his eye through his exhaustion. “I'm going to fall asleep and you're going to use me if you want to."

Yuuri stared at him in stunned silence, his head suddenly swimming and heavy. “What? Vitya, I- you'll be asleep?"

"It's still  _ my body _ . If you want to get off, I want to be involved." He slid the mask down over his eyes and settled on his stomach, lifting his bare ass into the air long enough to slip one of the spare pillows under his hips. “Please, Yuuri. Use me.”

“I… Vitya, are you sure?” Yuuri stammered. His mouth was suddenly  _ very _ dry. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yuuri. I want to,” Viktor answered firmly, spreading his legs wide enough for Yuuri’s hips. He groaned with the effort, but Yuuri appreciated the small show. “Let me fall asleep. Give me a massage, like you did after Paris.”

Yuuri remembered that night with a razor-sharp clarity; they had stayed up until sunrise wringing pleasure from each other’s exhausted bodies. “Oh, okay,” Yuuri managed, pushing himself out of bed and pulling the bottle of oil from his suitcase. They had made the habit of bringing supplies with them; the trainers in Saint Petersburg (and by extension Yakov and Yuuri himself) would only permit Viktor to return if he held to their strict therapy routine. Not that Yuuri would complain about being Viktor Nikiforov’s private masseur. 

The first touch of Yuuri’s hands on Viktor’s thighs was met with a low, pleased groan and a muted ‘ _ feels nice,’ _ and the praise settled in Yuuri’s core like lead- heavy and demanding. He moved slowly, in the patterns he had been taught by Viktor’s trainers. Coiled muscles eased under his hands, his calves loosening as he moved. 

It was remarkable to feel Viktor melt under his touch. But it was even more erotic. Viktor’s skin, slick and shining with oil, muscles sharply defined in the low light. Viktor's sounds were soft and pleased as Yuuri's hands crept higher and higher, working out the stress of the competition. It had been grueling and difficult, and especially through their final exhibition. Viktor’s legs were so firm and strong on the ice and in their bed now, unyielding muscle and ligament woven with strength and power. And Yuuri was allowed to touch them. 

It still felt unreal, even after all this time. It never failed to be new and heart-rending, the way Viktor opened up to him, allowed him in deeper. Their love defied anything Yuuri had known before, any attraction, any affection he had known before, and often he felt that he owed his life for it. 

But every inch that Yuuri gave, Viktor gave as well. Their partnership transcended sharing lifts on the ice or taking turns leading when they danced at banquets and galas. 

It was something deeper than that, something warm and whole-bodied. Maybe they were two halves of one whole. But perhaps, instead, they had always been searching for the one to meet them halfway. The other body to make them two whole people together. 

Viktor’s soft, sleepy moan shook Yuuri from shimmery thoughts of soulmates. How long had it been? Yuuri had been massaging him long enough for the oils to have soaked in, he realized belatedly. He flushed and spilled more into his hands, warming the fluid in his palms and letting it drip slowly onto the perky swell of Viktor’s ass. 

Yuuri knew that Viktor was already mostly asleep; the touch would have normally woken him. Viktor was by no means a heavy sleeper, and usually woke when Yuuri so much as got up to use the bathroom during the night. The competition truly had wrung him dry. 

Viktor’s breathing was beginning to stutter, growing heavier, deeper, with every sweep of Yuuri’s hands over his ass. The change was small but noticeable, and even though he was laying on his stomach, Yuuri could guess with certainty that he was hard. So was he, almost painfully so. It took restraint he didn’t know he had to focus both hands on Viktor instead of palming himself as he worked. 

Viktor moved in his sleep, arching himself up and back slightly; he pressed his ass upward into Yuuri’s hands. A moment of worry washed over him then, that he might have crossed a line, that this was wrong despite Viktor’s reassurance. 

But he had been so sure, so insistent… His consent couldn’t have been clearer. 

Yuuri let his hands wander, one sliding into the cleft between his cheeks. His hole was twitching when he found it, clenching on nothing. 

“Having a nice dream, Vitya?” Yuuri whispered, his voice barely louder than a whisper. The thought was nearly too much to entertain. With another generous amount of oil, Yuuri pressed himself into Viktor’s body and he opened to Yuuri’s touch with ease. He made a quiet sound like a moan and pushed himself backward slightly, every movement slow and uncoordinated. 

Yuuri bit off a curse at the sight and pressed forward, coaxing Viktor’s body further into relaxation. There was no way to remember how many times they had played like this, but it never failed to take Yuuri’s breath away. Viktor moved with such grace, allowed Yuuri into his body so easily and wonderfully. 

“ _ Mmmmn _ ,” Viktor moaned into his pillow, the sound choked as Yuuri added another finger and curled both downward just right, finding his prostate. The sound he made was loud and throaty, an interesting difference from the high-pitched whines that usually accompanied prostate play. Yuuri savored the difference for a while longer before stretching him a bit more, continuing carefully and slowly. 

“So beautiful,” Yuuri whispered quietly, watching his fingers disappear into Viktor’s hole as he slept. “Perfect.”

Yuuri lost track of time, pouring all of his attention and energy into Viktor’s body; by the time Yuuri was confident Viktor was ready, he had no idea how much time had passed. He pushed his pajama pants down around his hips, his cock jumping in time with his heartbeat as he spread more oil onto his skin. He shuddered at the cool sensation, but the oil quickly warmed as he stroked himself once, twice, three times. 

He lined himself up and pressed forward, easing into Viktor with a shuddered moan of his name. Even in sleep, Viktor was tight and clenching around him; his breaths were fast and peppered with sleepy moans and Yuuri could barely stop himself from plunging in deeper. 

He bottomed out with a bitten-off curse, and Viktor made another sound too, something like a plea. Yuuri’s guess about a pleasant dream seemed accurate, at least. He began his pace slowly, rocking in and out of Viktor’s body as carefully as he could. 

Viktor’s hips were well and truly rocking now, rolling back onto Yuuri’s cock with every stroke. His mouth was partially open, his lips shiny and soft with leftover lip balm, a soft huff of a moan falling from his parted lips. 

The position was just as demanding as it was arousing, and within moments Yuuri knew he wouldn’t be lasting long. He was hot and tight and perfect, and Yuuri’s edge roared toward him like a freight train. The soft slap of his groin against Viktor’s ass, the wet sounds of the oil; it was all too much, too fast. 

Yuuri came with a choked whine, electricity buzzing in his veins; he still needed more. Viktor’s thighs were shaking, the way they did when he was awake… the sight was still just as exciting. 

Yuuri pulled out and watched as a steady trickle of come spilled from between Viktor’s cheeks. Without even a second thought, Yuuri lifted his hand and dipped his fingers into it, pressing his come and his fingers back into Viktor’s body. The sound sent a chill down his spine and his cock twitched with interest; he was still half-hard as always, their playtime rarely ending after only one orgasm each.

Come dripped along Viktor’s perineum and down Yuuri’s hand, pooling in his palm. The muscles in his thighs and ass were clenching, pushing his hips forward into the pillow below him. Yuuri could tell he needed more, even though he was fast asleep. Viktor’s body was a marvel, and touching him was a privilege that Yuuri could barely believe he had been given.

Even in the low light of the hotel room, Yuuri could see just how wet Viktor’s hole had become, shining with come. He pressed his fingers back into him, turning his fingers downward to that spot again and listening to the sounds Viktor made, both his body and his mouth. Both the wet sound of come and the throaty whines. He had given himself to Yuuri like this, to be played with and used, turned into something for Yuuri’s pleasure. What a precious gift.

Viktor’s reactions lit a fire in Yuuri’s core and he couldn’t help but press his face between Viktor’s cheeks; how else would one savor such a perfect gift?

Viktor tasted like salt and come, and something so unmistakably Viktor that it had Yuuri’s head spinning. His scent was strong here, after a long day of press and standing…  _ oh _ , Yuuri felt drunk on him. He pulled in heavy lungfuls of him, holding his hips firm as his tongue pressed in further, guided by his fingers. He pressed in as far as he could, tasting the ghost of himself there and feeling Viktor’s body tighten around him. 

Viktor’s sounds began to rise in pitch, his thighs clenching and shaking, the pleasure rattling him to the core just like it was shaking Yuuri. His breaths were coming in sharp, aborted pants for air. Yuuri snaked an arm underneath him and wrapped a furled fist around Viktor’s cock, where the head was wet with precome. Viktor’s moans were soft but no less intoxicating, and he came with a shuddery cry that sounded like Yuuri’s name. 

Yuuri swore under his breath at the display, ribbons of silky come now covering the sheets beneath him. He had done that. He had gotten Viktor off in his sleep. He had touched Viktor, played with him, given him that pleasure even while he slept. He couldn’t wait anymore, he had to have more; he slicked himself up, his body still thrumming like a livewire, demanding touch again. 

He didn’t want to wake Viktor, not when he was so exhausted from their skate, from the competition, his first full season back on the ice… but the memory of Viktor’s thighs, their power, their strength called him like a siren’s song. 

He moved the soiled pillow out from underneath him and wrapped his hands around his trim, perfect waist. He pressed himself between Viktor’s thighs and began to thrust between those pillowy muscles, all the while swallowing down his own sounds and desperate, panting breaths. It was so soft, so tight, so perfect between his thighs, and he couldn’t shake the memory of their pair skate, their shared layback spins, Viktor’s flawless Ina Bauer.

Warmth pooled in his gut as images of Viktor scrolled through his head; Viktor taking the ice again after a year. Viktor in his new costumes. Viktor picking up a stuffed toy and giving it to Yuuri in the kiss and cry. Yuuri had been there for all of it, after nearly retiring. He had given himself another chance, and Viktor had met him on every front. 

“Viktor, I-  _ fuck _ ,” Yuuri moaned, his body strained and coiled tight. Viktor was so perfect, such a gift, such a treasure, and he was Yuuri’s. He had chosen Yuuri. “Yes,  _ yes _ !” he whimpered and came one last time, spilling between Viktor’s inner thighs and coating the bed below with his come. 

When the ringing in his ears finally stopped, Yuuri pulled himself free and rolled Viktor onto his side, pulling him away from the wet spot they had both created; he held him close and let himself float down from high heaven slowly.

“I love you,” Yuuri breathed softly, kissing Viktor’s temple. “I love you so much.”

* * *

“You had a lot of fun with me, Yuuri.” Viktor teased the following morning over breakfast. He was bright eyed and cheery as ever, sipping his mimosa in bed. “Thank you for ordering room service.”

Yuuri flushed. “It’s the least I could do, you let me… do all of that to you while you slept.”

Viktor laughed and leaned across the tray, catching Yuuri’s lips in a kiss. “I wanted to help you settle, love. You were so high-strung I thought you’d snap in half.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri hummed, still feeling warm in the cheeks. “You were amazing. I missed hearing your voice though.”

Viktor paused for a moment, a spoonful of yogurt halfway to his lips. “Is that so?”

Yuuri swallowed thickly and nodded. “I… yes. So much.” Viktor picked up the tray and set it aside, encouraging Yuuri to straddle his hips, to lean in. 

“I had a dream about you last night,” Viktor whispered, hot and wet in Yuuri’s ear. “And you were  _ incredible. _ ” Viktor’s tongue flicked out along the curve of Yuuri’s earlobe and he gasped, a full-bodied shudder rolling down his spine. 

“Our… our flight is in two hours, we should-” Yuuri began, but Viktor had him pinned to the bed before further protests could be made. 

“Flights can be rescheduled.” Viktor whispered, kneeling between Yuuri’s thighs and pulling his soft sleep pants off his hips. “Right?”

“R-right,” Yuuri answered, wondering  _ how _ he got so lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, beautiful person. take care of yourself today. 
> 
> <3 ia  
> [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/ia_theauthor) | [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com)


End file.
